The Hunter and The Huntress
by DakotaCole
Summary: Tristan decides to come home to escape from her problems, but she ends up dealing with more that she ever expected. Not to mention that she and her brother are part of an infamous motorcycle club. Jax/OC
1. Welcome Home, Huntress

Disclaimer: I only own Tristan :/

* * *

It only took a few minutes of Tristan speeding through Charming, California, to rest her eyes upon her destination. She had missed this place. The familiar rumbling underneath her stopped as soon as she cut the engine of her Harley. Without any hesitation, Tristan climbed off her motorcycle and walked into Teller-Morrow auto shop. She smiled as all the unforgettable sights and sounds reached her. She was finally home.

* * *

Jax looked up from the engine that he and Juice were working on, only to spot a woman leaning on the doorframe watching everyone in the garage work. Juice noticed his lapse in attention when Jax stopped answering his questions and looked up to see what had caught his gaze.

"Wow," Juice whistled under his breath. "Who the hell is she?"

"I'm not sure," Jax answered uncertainly. "I don't think I've ever seen her before."

She had long, dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes. Not to mention a figure worth staring at. There was something nagging at him that he couldn't place. The woman seemed so familiar, yet he had no idea who she was.

"It would probably help to do the work that Clay is paying you two to do, dumbasses," an irritable voice growled.

"Yeah yeah, don't get your panties in a twist Tig," Jax sighed.

"We were just checking out that hot piece of ass." Juice said with a grin.

Tig turned his head to see what they were talking about and immediately tensed up. He turned back to the two men and smacked Juice upside the head while giving Jax a withering glare. Jax just raised his eyebrow questioningly.

Tig shook his head and sighed. "Go get Clay."

While Jax sauntered off to find the boss, Tig snuck up behind the supposed mystery woman and scooped her up in a hug. She let out a small gasp a turned around, only to see Tig grinning down at her with a warm smile. Tristan let a squeal of happiness and wrapped her arms around his neck, returning the hug full-force.

"I missed you darlin'." Tig sighed quietly and buried his face in her hair.

* * *

"Well look who rolled back into town!" Clay exclaimed while he and Gemma approached.

Tig released her so they could embrace her as well.

"How have you been, doll?" Gemma asked with a warm smile.

"I've been better, but being home is changing things for the better."

"I'm glad you're home sweetheart." Clay said, embracing her again. Only this time when she got a bear hug from Clay, Tig noticed her wince. Under his critical eye he noticed that she was trying to hide a grimace of pain.

"Tristan, what happened to your stomach?" he questioned seriously.

Tristan sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm fine."

Tig just crossed his arms and gave her a stern look.

"Fine, let's just say that SAMCRO didn't set the best example to the other MCs when you burned Kyle Hobart's cut off with a blowtorch. The Tacoma charter didn't see how I could belong to the club." She responded bitterly.

Jax, who had been by Gemma's side, had heard the entire thing and was in disbelief. How did the Tacoma charter find out about Hobart? With a quick look at glance at the two other men, Jax knew the outcome of the charter's actions wasn't going to be pretty. Clay looked ready to break something with his fist clenched at his sides, and Tig, well Tig just looked like he was ready for murder. Jax wondered what was up between the woman and Tig.

"When did this happen and how bad is it?" Clay asked in a low voice.

Tristan shrugged and pulled her black wife beater up above her bellybutton. "It was yesterday, on my way here."

Below her navel, in bold black letters read: Anarchy, with the reaper logo above her hip to the left of it. She had a large bandage below the letters, and Jax winced when he saw the blood leaking through.

"They only pinned me down for a few seconds before I got away, so my cut is still safe at least."

"Jesus Christ." Clay muttered. "How'd they get a hold of you? You've always been real fast."

"There was six of them and one of me. Plus I didn't think they'd go after someone with such close ties to the Redwood Original. People usually shit their pants when they find out Tigger's my overprotective big brother."

Jax almost choked on his own spit when she said that. This was Tig's little sister? That would explain the laser beam blue eyes, at least. But why did she have the SOA cut tattooed on her? Even the old ladies weren't supposed to have them. He made a mental note to ask about that later.

"You should really get to the hospital and get that checked out," Gemma said worriedly.

"It will be fine, it's not too bad. I could use somewhere to sleep, though." She said, giving Clay and Gemma a hopeful smile.

"You can have anything you need, darlin'." Clay said. "Don't ever hesitate to ask."

"You can have one of the spare club house rooms, I'm sure Tig would show you where to put your stuff." Gemma said with a comforting smile. She and Clay had been parental figures to her when she was growing up; according to Tig she was hard to handle as a teenager.

While Tig escorted her up to her new room with his arm around her shoulder, Jax turned back to his mother and step-father.

"Clay, how is it that she has the cut?" he asked in disbelief.

"Tristan Trager was the only woman ever excepted into the Son's of Anarchy. Though she's obviously not a 'son' she is still one of the very best. She deserves to wear the cut more than some of us."

"Not to mention she can outshoot Clay, Tig and Chibs combined and she's a hell of a hunter." Gemma added with a smile.

"More a huntress than a hunter, baby doll," Clay corrected with a laugh.

* * *

Hooray! Chapter one is up (: I've had this story stuck in my head for awhile, and there will be more soon.

-DC


	2. The Past in the Present

Disclaimer: I only own Tristan :/

* * *

Tristan must have been exhausted. She slept through the entire afternoon, and when no one woke her up for dinner, all through the night. The next morning she woke feeling much better and noticed all of her bags on the floor. Silently thanking Tig for bringing her things up, she grabbed a change of clothes and stepped into the attached bathroom. A long, hot shower was just what she needed.

After about twenty minutes of soaking in the steaming hot water, she finally got out and dried off. She slipped into a pair of low rise jean shorts and a red long-sleeve SAMCRO shirt. Tristan didn't both with her hair, just running a comb through it quickly, and put on her simple make up; just a little black eyeliner and mascara to make her eyes pop out even more. Satisfied, she made her way downstairs where she could smell food cooking.

Gemma greeted her when she stepped into the kitchen. "Morning sweetheart, how'd you sleep?"

"Fine, thanks," she answered with a yawn and sat down next to Clay at the table. "I definitely needed the sleep."

Still half-asleep, Tristan didn't notice the rest of the men at the table staring at her openly. Clay, however, did.

"Boys, this is Tristan Trager. She's part of the gang, so don't worry about treating her any different from the rest of us." Clay said.

"Except if any of you touch her, I'll castrate you."

The rest of the club looked up to see Tig leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed. Tristan just rolled her eyes and went back to eating her food.

"Wait a minute, Trager? Like Tig?" Kip asked confusedly.

"Mhm." She replied with her mouth full and looked at Clay expectantly.

"Oh yeah, that's Bobby, Juice, Jax, Kip, Opie, and Chibs. You know me, Gemma and Tig."

Without any more questions, the boys dug into their food and Tig sat down across from her. It was good to be home.

* * *

Tristan wrinkled her nose up in disgust. She hated the smell of antiseptic. Well, not just that, but hospitals in general. Gemma had managed to force her here to get the burn on her stomach looked at. Grudgingly she admitted that it still really hurt, but that didn't mean she was planning on going to go to the hospital for just a little burn. Gemma wasn't going to have any of that. Jax was coming too, she had told me. It turned out that he had a little boy that was premature cause of his stupid crank head mother, Wendy. Anyways, back to the present.

For some reason Gemma insisted that they take her caddy, instead of letting Tristan take her motorcycle and meet him there. Gemma probably thought she would split and go back to the clubhouse instead of going to the hospital. She was probably right.

"How are you feeling?" Jax asked kindly as he drove to St. Thomas.

"Better, thanks. The sleep really helped. I've been going almost non-stop for three days."

He looked her over out of the corner of his eye. She really did look worn out now that he guard was down. He wondered to himself what had driven her to get out of wherever she had previously been. There was something about her that made his breath hitch when she fixed those piercing baby blues on him. Jax quickly focused back on the road when he realized he'd been caught.

"So, I grew up in Charming, but I don't remember seeing you around." Jax said, diverting her attention away from him.

"I was in and out for most of my life, but I was born here." She sighed, running a hand through her hair and leaning back into the seat. "Clay and Gemma looked after me when ever Tig was away on 'business'."

Her laugh caught his attention, and he raised his eyebrow.

"It was obvious what Tigger did was not business. Especially because in his free time he would teach me how to fight and shoot, telling me that I would probably need it later in life."

"No offence, but how did you get into the club?"

"None take. When I was seventeen, the Mayans came into SAMCRO territory to try to take a hit on Clay. The vice, which I now know is you, was somewhere else that day. I was at driving home from TM when I saw two Mexicans pull up behind Tig and Clay who were talking in a secluded parking lot." She took a deep breath before she continued, "I had a sneaking suspicion of what was going down, so I followed them and took my gun out. I was about a foot behind them, when the Mexicans pulled their guns on Tig and Clay who still hadn't noticed their presence. Let's just say I got them before they could carry out their hit."

Jax whistled. "That makes sense now. You saved both the president and sergeant-at-arms at the same time."

"Yeah, too bad I didn't come out unscathed. When Clay heard my gun go off, he thought it was one of the Mayans shooting, and started shooting at them. He must not of seen me behind them, cause he shot me in the shoulder by accident."

"Ouch." He winced.

"Yeah, but Clay took me to get my cut the next day." She said with a smile. "And I can still make him feel guilty whenever I want."

At this both of them laughed and got out of Gemma's caddy, now at their destination. When she walked into the hospital with Jax, Tristan snarled when she saw who her physician was going to be. He looked at her questioningly.

"We're not exactly the best of friends," she muttered to Jax.

To say that she and Tara Knowles had never gotten along was an understatement. The stupid bitch always played it off like she was better than Tristan, and that got old quick.

"Tristan, I see that you're back in town." Tara said with a smirk.

"No shit." She growled.

"Finally going to stop running away?"

Tristan laughed. "Like you would know anything about that, hun. When did you decide to come back from Chicago? Was it because everyone saw your true colors up to you there?"

Tara just stood there opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water. Jax smirked behind me.

"Let's just get this over with." She sighed.

"Come find me when you're done, Tristan." Jax said, sending her a sweet smile.

Tara noticed the smile and was silently fuming. Tristan just turned back to her with a mocking smile.

"Poor Tara, this must be the first time you can't have what you want." She purred.

Looks like everything was back to normal in Charming.

* * *

Ok, first my lovely reviewers:

morbidpricess666

wrestlenascargirl

ozlady80

And thank you to everyone that added me to their favorite stories or author list. I love you all!

-DC


	3. Guns and Spanish

Disclaimer: I only own Tristan :/

* * *

To say that Tristan's little check up was uneventful would be a straight up lie. Tara jabbed at her burn a lot haphazardly, causing Tristan to grimace in pain. After three more pokes, she grabbed Tara's wrist, effectively preventing her from jabbing at her again.

"I swear to god, if you jab me one more fucking time, I will break my fingers off." She growled from between clenched teeth and released her wrist.

Tara just rolled her eyes. "I'm done anyways. Just keep putting this on every night," she said handing her a tube of medical ointment. "And there should only be a very slight scar."

"Yeah, whatever."

With that, Tristan grabbed the tube and slammed the door to the room in Tara's face. _I wonder if Jax is still in the NIC, _she thought. She shrugged and made her way there; it was worth a shot at least. After a few minutes of wandering around, she caught sight of the back of Jax's jacket. The reaper logo was kind of hard to miss. A few hesitant steps forward and she saw the little man that had been on some many people's minds lately. Jax heard her walk up and turned his head to look at her. The sight of Tristan looking so intently at Abel with softness in her eyes brought a tiny smile to his face.

"I can't wait to get him out of the toaster." He said with a sigh, running a hand through his blonde hair.

"Toaster?" she laughed.

"Toaster, incubator, whatever." He smiled.

"Whatever you say Jax."

They stood together in comfortable silence, happy in the simple ease of Abel's steady breathing. Well, it was silent until her phone starting blasting out obnoxious music. Glancing down at her phone, Tristan's eyes widened when she saw who was calling her and picked up immediately.

"Qué paso?" she mumbled into her phone. "Dime lo que sabes." After a couple seconds, she responded again. "¿En serio? El cien por ciento positivo?" a sigh escaped her and then she ran a hand over her face.

"Gracias. Te debo."

She snapped her phone shut and turned to Jax.

"We have a serious problem."

* * *

When he pulled up to the clubhouse, Tristan practically leaped out of the car and jogged up to Clay.

"You need to call an emergency Church **now**." She stressed.

Clay studied Tristan's face and saw how serious she looked, so he complied.

"Boys!" he hollered. "Church, now!"

As all of the boys filed into the room and dropped their cell phones into the cigar box, they gave Clay and her an odd look. After everyone was in the room she shut the door behind herself and sat in an empty chair by Tig and Clay. Now everyone's attention was once again on her.

"Ok kid, what do we need to know." Clay asked quietly.

"The Mayans are planning to come into SAMCRO territory tonight and do a raid on the new warehouse."

Opie almost choked on his drink. "How in the hell would you know this?!"

"Yeah, no offence darlin', but you're on most people's shit list, who in god's name would tell you that?" Clay exclaimed.

"I have my sources, and you boys have yours. Don't doubt for a fucking second that mine are less credible than yours. My source is loyal to me and only me. Not to mention that he'd rather stay anonymous."

"Fine. How's this going to play out then?" Jax questioned.

"About ten of their best guys are heading over here when the sun goes down. One or two of them are planning on making some sort of disruption to split you guys up to two different ends of the town. They need the AK's, but aren't willing to pay their enemy for them."

"Shit. Juice: double surveillance tonight. Jax, Bobby and Opie: watch the highways and tail or shoot those motherfuckers. Chibs, Tristan and Tig: you're on the guns. I don't want them touching them or seeing them. Shoot to kill." Clay finished assigning jobs and banged the gavel.

"Move out."

* * *

Juice and Clay went their own way while the rest of the crew headed towards the weapon room to get stocked up for the run tonight. Tig looked at their stock thoughtfully before slipping out of the room and into his room upstairs. Shoved between the mattress and box spring was something he knew Tristan would appreciate. He yanked it out and smirked.

"What type of gun are ya lookin' for, love?" Chibs asked with a grin.

"M16-A4 assault rifle." She and a voice said at the same time.

Tristan smiled and looked up to see Tig leaning in the door frame holding the exact gun. He winked and tossed it towards her and she easily caught it; running her hands up and down its length, checking for any tiny faults. She found none.

Chibs' cigarette almost fell out of his mouth and he let out a low whistle. "That's a big gun, sure ya can 'andle it?"

Tristan just laughed and Chibs raised his eyebrows. Tig explained.

"She's a fucking surgeon with that gun."

"Well remind me ta never make ya angry then, sweetheart." He said with a loud laugh.

"That's a smart rule to follow with both of the Tragers," Clay hollered as he passed by the door.

Tig and Tristan just looked at each other and smirked.

_Both of them armed and angry? Now __**that**__ is a frightening thought_ Chibs thought with a grin and a shake of the head.

* * *

Hello lovelies! I want to thank all of you that reviewed/favorited.

I've been sick and have had nothing to do, so that's why the updates have been coming so quickly. Unfortunately, they'll be slowing down a bit soon. I'll try to put up a AT LEAST one new chapter each week, but if I don't, feel free to harass me (:

-DC


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